


Taught by Thirst

by Salmon_Center



Series: Drought [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Humor, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 23:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1244470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Center/pseuds/Salmon_Center
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to When it Rains in Omega, Five years later and Omega still has a lot to teach Millie Shepard. Whether she wants to learn or not. Femshep/Garrus friendship [considered pre-romance]</p><p>On hiatus!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Light the Lamps

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I had some fears that this wouldn't be posted on time, but here it is. Just to warn you that the update will be a bit sporadic. The whole thing isn't outlined yet so, you may have to wait a while again. But I did want this up to set your minds at ease. Also, I don't want it to clash with Legacy of One.
> 
> Just so everyone knows, this is the Sequel to When it Rains in Omega- you'll need to read that first or else this story won't make sense to you. It's also still general, so you can read it as a non-romance fic. However, you can also read this as a pre-romance (and it is intended as a pre-romance, this time I am sure). This also a more mature story- and definitely won't have the same hearts and stars like the other story. Although, Millie and her humor makes things better.
> 
> Warning: Cussing, violence, blood, mentions of sexual activity, betrayal, no clear update schedule
> 
> Many thanks to Elantil for beta-ing and encouraging me in all my writing endeavors.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Prelude: Light the Lamps**

An important guest was coming to Eden Blue today. But no one knew that yet.

Nalah Butler woke up with a start, thirty minutes before her alarm would go off. Rubbing her face with her hands, she began her day as she usual—poking her husband awake, taking her shower, then made breakfast for her family. Her son bounded down the stairs, rushing to put on his jacket. Her husband followed behind in a more sedate pace, hair combed twice but still sticking out in several places—armor half unlocked as he took a sip of his lukewarm coffee.

"Should I bother to ask what time you came in last night," She poured him a warmer cup when he finished his first one. He chewed on some bread, staring somewhere far away. "Or if you slept well?"

Fredric Butler looked at back her with hazy eyes—opening his mouth to reply, he turned to his son as Garret poured himself a cup of milk and, instead of speaking, he shook his head.

Nalah sighed. "You better go then. They're waiting for you."

Butler kissed his wife on the brow and hugged his son tightly before he left, fully armed and a messenger bag slung on his shoulder. Nalah cleared away the leftovers and the dirty dishes before the home tutor arrived for her son, a bright asari that Garret led upstairs with a smile.

When her workers came in, tying their aprons on and wiping the counters, she flipped the switch to signal that her café was now open and ready to take orders, even though she knew business would be slow again today, as it had been for two weeks now. She turned up the jazz music playing through the speakers and turned back to her counter.

Nalah Butler was tempted to close Eden Blue early—a handful of regulars trickled in but she could always wait out those few to finish, close for a couple of hours, and then reopen at around lunchtime when they came back.

When the place became empty as she predicted, she sent her workers to the kitchen, turning up the music even louder, she drew the red curtains close on the west side windows and sighed. A low saxophone made it's intro, melting the café into a dream.

Monteague, her husband's best friend, loved this song.

The bell on her door rang, Nalah had a hand over her sidearm until she noted it was woman with a duffel bag over her shoulder and dark hair with red highlights styled with a pixie cut.

"Welcome." Nalah smiled as she sped back behind the counter, the customer took her seat on one of the stools near the register. She blushed as the young woman smiled back, wide and full of straight white teeth behind pink lips. She was probably the prettiest thing Nalah had seen since Omega returned to becoming a complete warzone. The stranger's small face glowed with that unabashed smile. She had a pair of almond shaped blue-silver eyes that were framed by thick dark lashes and a small but sharp nose. Her armor was light, dark grey and streaks of red the shade of blood, framing a slender and lithe body. Two heavy pistols lay sleeping against her back, snug inside a pair of holsters.

"Something wrong?" The woman asked as she was removing her gloves. Her voice was sultry and deep. It caused Nalah's heart to race before she laughed.

"I'm sorry. I just—I was surprised for a moment there! Are you—sightseeing?" The younger woman blinked at her and Nalah laughed again. "That might not be the right word but you look—"

"Shiny and new?" She supplied, the corner of her lip lifted up in perfect symmetry with the playful sparkle of her eyes.

"Yes, precisely! Oh—how rude. I haven't gotten your order."

She shook her head, her smile still in place. "Of course. Just brewed coffee—black."

"Right away." She put the saucer and the mug down before pouring the coffee. The younger woman smiled as she said her thanks, took a sip and closed her eyes. "What brings a tourist like you to this part of the galaxy?"

"Ah, I'm with a friend. We're on a little vacation, so to speak." She smiled down as she swirled the contents of her drink. The steam wafted into the air and then dispersed—she sighed, enjoying the smell as well as the taste. "Then I thought—I may as well visit a few good friends. I haven't talked to any of them for over a year now. I felt a little guilty."

"Oh. This is awful timing though." Nalah frowned, pouring another cup—she waved her hand as the girl looked at her curiously. "On the house, no extra charge."

"Thanks." She chuckled. "I heard a few things on my way here but I didn't want to turn back. Maybe you can fill me in on more details, ma'am?"

Nalah put the pot down and leaned against the countertop. She held back the sigh that nearly escaped her. "It's been this way for nearly a year now—eight months to be more precise— I'm afraid. Right when we were on the verge of some true peace. You heard of Archangel, right?"

A nod. "Yeah."

"Well, about five years ago they were a group of 12 and now they're seven times that size and still growing. After teaming up with the Talons—you've heard of them?" Another nod. "Good. Well, they've been a driving force for change in Omega—they've conquered Blood Pack and Eclipse territory already and govern almost 40% of the turf here."

"I doubt the queen liked that." She took a sip when Nalah shook her head.

"Not at all. Fights were kept down but the tension was thick in the air. People were divided between the Convocation—yeah I know, the name is a bit of a laugh amongst the humans but it suited the Archangel and Talon alliance—and Aria's people. A little less than a year ago, Aria was finally going to co-operate and there was going to be some real change but—" Nalah bit her lip, almost drawing blood. Everything had changed then, exploded in their faces like smoke after a magic trick. Now, her husband had this dead look in his eyes—barely any appetite or sleep, maybe not even dreams. But who could blame him?

"What happened?" Her customer whispered.

"Archangel was betrayed by one of the original twelve—Lantar Sidonis. He'd been making deals with Blue Suns and then chose that moment, that fateful day when everything was going right for once—"

"So, T'Loak pounced on it?"

"Everyone in Omega, even the ordinary residents, know that only the strong survive here. Aria had all the eyes of Omega on her—the deal was supposed to go on live broadcast and there wasn't a single household that wasn't either watching the exchange or present at location. She turned around—made the Convocation look weak and then—" Nalah held back the sob. "My husband and I lost so many good friends that day." She let a single tear fall before she shook her head, one hand on her mouth. "I'm sorry. It's been—very hard since then."

The woman reached out, her hand was big and had such slender fingers. Nalah noted how thick and rough the calluses were on the surface of her skin before she felt the warmth underneath them. "Oh, Nalah—I'm so sorry."

Nalah froze. "How—How did you know my—" She returned the stranger's gentle touch with a vice grip, pulling herself up and closer to the woman. She stared into her eyes before her face wrinkled up and the tears fell. "Millie."

Shepard stood as Nalah went around the bar and gave her a hug, sobbing on the girl's shoulder. Millie's chuckle rumbled her frame as she returned the hug. "Hi, Nalah."

"God, you came back." Nalah wiped away the tears as she pulled away—studying Millie Shepard's face with new interest. "You've become so beautiful and—so mature."

The young woman sighed, cracking a smile. "Really? I was kind of getting tired of acting the part. Fuck," She stuck her tongue out and pushed the empty coffee cup with the flick of her finger. "Black coffee tastes like the rough side of an elcor's ass—not that I'd know what that really tasted like, but you get what I mean."

"Oh, Millie." Nalah laughed and cried all at once as she hugged her again. "You're such a lovable idiot. Where have you been? Why haven't you been mailing us? The boss—" She snapped up and pulled away again. "Oh god, the boss would want to see you! He's been acting like a lovesick girl since you stopped mailing so regularly and then with everything that's happened—"

Shepard put her hand up. "Now, isn't the time to meet Garrus but I will. Of _course_ , I will." Resting her hands on Nalah's shoulder, she brought their faces closer. "But right now, I've only got bits and pieces of what's happening—tell me everything you know."

* * *

Five years was a damn long time. The galaxy was changing, humans were racing up the galactic ladder— they were everywhere now—Ilium, C-Sec, freaking Thessia. There were two human Spectres a Williams and a Leng or something. At the moment, Udina hadn't died yet so he was Councillor, but Shepard held on to her mother's pendant and asked whatever powers existed in the galaxy to just smite him.

Five years. Five names.

Krul. Monteague. Ripper. Vortash. Mierin.

Shepard smoked five cigarettes for each one of them. She'd been clean for six months but, damn she really needed it now—she had Nalah to thank for asking her workers if they had some they could spare. She leaned against the window of Eden Blue, the red curtain still drawn behind her. She could hear gunfire coming from the west side, not far from where she stood. A mix of stale air and sulfur had blended into the wind while she wasn't in Omega.

Frankly, she preferred the stench of vorcha shit. She hid the smell of change with the smell of menthol and smoke.

This was supposed to be a vacation. Jesus.

"Fuck, kid. I thought you were off that stuff." Jack, her instructor and friend, walked up beside her, a bag of groceries hanging against her grip and a Carnifex in the other hand. Her ponytail swishing from side to side even as her Mohawk stood perfectly still.

Jack wasn't as properly clothed as a biotic instructor should be—what with only a white top that covered her breasts but not the map of tattoos that covered every inch of her skin. She had a studded leather jacket on and a pair of baggy cargos but she was far from respectable. Then again, it had been worse years back when all that was covering her tits were her tattoos.

The important thing to know, however, was that Shepard loved her bitchy, biotic instructor.

Trailing behind Jack was her pet varren, Eezo and Shepard's _Kendra_ , Count—more fur and less scales with three tails— who bounded up to her side, nuzzling his nose on her knee.

"Remember how Omega fell off the radar at the beginning of the year, G-standard?" She crushed the dying light of the final cigarette under her boot. She smiled down at Count and gave him a quick pet and he yipped—his fox face lifted, he moved behind her and weaved himself between and around her legs.

"Yeah. Council couldn't even get a proper story out of the locals because they were being such pussies. Then, before they could send our kind in, they decided to fall back until the air got better."

Shepard nodded. "Well, there was an uprising—a power vacuum, of sorts, when the Convocation—yeah, I know, the name makes me want to shoot myself too— and Aria were supposed to make nice." She closed her eyes. "Friends, people I knew, died."

"Fuck."

"Gets better." She threw Jack her last cigarette and her lighter. "They were betrayed by another friend. Lantar Sidonis. Gave them up to Aria T'Loak during the most crucial moment and they got trampled on. Until a couple of months ago, it was Martial Law—as much as it could be in a place without law, anyway."

Jack threw her the grocery bag before she lit a cigarette, hand over the fire as the wind got stronger, as did the sound of distant gunfire.

The lighter shut with a click and glinted against the street lights when Jack threw it back and Shepard caught it just as easy. "You know, the Alliance is probably gonna be looking for us now—going AWOL and all. We can't stay here for long."

Shepard rolled her eyes, leaning against the café and crossing her arms. Count sat obediently beside her. "It's not like they trust us to ever report for leave. They ought to know better."

Jack took one long drag and blew the smoke between them. Eezo moved in front of her and nudged Count with his nose before he sat too. "Which is why we don't have any hounds on our asses now, kiddo. But who knows how long they're gonna be patient."

"I know we only booked a room for a couple of days but—fuck, Jack, I can't just leave."

Jack finished the last of her cigarette. Smoke lifted and curled from the lips of her crooked smile "Well, we did raise hell for those four or five months, didn't we? What's another month, right?"

Shepard laughed. If her hands were free, she would have hugged Jack (whether or not her instructor would have hit her for it—the pain was worth it). "Let's drop this off and get some rest." She lifted the bag up to her wrist and led the way. "We have a lot of doorbells to ring."


	2. Living the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important: Going to be focusing on Legacy of One so most likely Taught by Thirst will get updated every two or three weeks for a while. Legacy of One is going through a full clean-up/rewrite and that story has a bazillion chapters so it's really going to affect the speed of my other stories. Just a heads up to everyone. Thank you for your patience and understanding.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

"… I wish to be Providence myself, for I feel that the most beautiful, noblest, most sublime thing in the world, is to recompense and punish." – Alexander Dumas, _The Count of Monte Cristo_

**Chapter 1: Living the Dream**

Garrus dreamt of that day every night.

He remembered Mierin had been in Vortash's arms, locked in an embrace near the door to the arena. Ripper had been rechecking his rifle, and Montaegue and Butler were laughing in the corner. Sensat, blue skin and white facial marks. gave him a wide smile and a wave while she talked to a few of Talon's guys with Krul, their bomb specialist. Their group was chatting about the new rifle that came out in the market two weeks ago and Krul was going over what he done to improve it.

Almost five years of toil. He never thought Archangel would expand to this size and demand this much responsibility. But he felt something in his chest swell as he inhaled, holstering his rifle and watching his team smile and laugh. He brought up his omni-tool, checking his mail, frowning at the display. "No new messages" flashed at him.

"The kid hasn't mailed you, huh?" Titania's hand was heavy against his shoulder before she shoved him forward. He glared at her, albeit a little playfully, which she caught on and laughed. "Smile, Vakarian. Today is a good day."

"I was thinking of sending her a message." He looked at the typing interface and frowned.

"Oh? What happened to holding on to your pride and waiting for her to say something?"

"Hey, you said today was a good day." He typed and then erased, and then typed again and erased it. "I want the kid to know. And that Nalah has been fretting about it every day. Maybe schedule a visit."

"The kid is an Alliance reg now, right? Won't she be too busy?"

Garrus grunted. "An NCO."

Titania laughed. "That's your denial talking. You can't be first lieutenant and not be considered for full on Officer training."

He waved off her comment. "Details. She still needed a retainer."

"But now she doesn't have one, right?" She shook her head at him. "She has a superior officer but she practically ignores him— that girl has spunk, let me just say."

He looked away from his holo. "Why do you know so much?"

"Please, when we broke up and Melanis joined the Talons we've been talking." She hummed. "She's not so bad when she isn't thinking up ways to kill me."

"Which is what I told you."

"Well," She fixed a gaze at him—startling in its intensity. "We were fighting over something important."

He tilted his head. "Really?"

She huffed, scratching the back of her neck. Her grumble had tones of embarrassment laced in it. "And this is why we broke up—how can you always be so dense all the time?"

"As far as I know: we broke up because you said you wanted to break up." He shrugged.

She growled, mandible open to fight back but the doors opened and Nyreen Kandros walked in, followed by several of the other Talons. She nodded at Garrus and put a hand on Titania's shoulder. "I hope your argument isn't going to escalate like your last one? We still have some of the recruits running away at the sight of both of you together."

Titania huffed, crossing her arms and Garrus chuckled. Nyreen Kandros—the woman was impeccable. He had his doubts about her character and he knew from Sidonis that he had his own judgments about her—but despite being former black-ops for the Hierarchy and biotic, she had conducted herself with as much integrity and honor as he expected of himself—maybe even more.

Garrus should have known then, perhaps even before that, that what happened wasn't so much fate or destiny—just inevitability, because he put his trust and his doubts on the wrong people. But he didn't know then, because it was going to be a good day—the best day as the original Archangel and Talons stepped into the Arena, Aria was there with her own lieutenants. The cameras were all on them now as they stepped into the platforms, screens from every angle appeared everywhere. Behind him, he heard Ripper hiss a curse and he kept his trigger finger on his rifle. On the stands, Omega's residents and minor and major merc gangs were spectating.

Normally, Garrus would have felt the pressure of all their eyes but this time he didn't. It was the culmination of all their—Archangel and Talon's— labor. He took back what the merc gangs have stolen from the people here, what Aria had tricked them into thinking was just the way things were—now, he was more than just a step closer—he had crossed a whole road closer to his vision.

Aria T'Loak's forces were down to a few powerful but small gangs. Nothing the combined forces couldn't fight back. Although Aria still controlled the business and trade side of Omega, signing the contract to end their feud and finally establish real order rather than giving the throne to the strongest was the best option to put their stalemate to an end.

The plan was to split the power between four people—himself, T'Loak, her batarian lieutenant who went by the name Rev, and Nyreen. The Codex of Rules and Conduct had already been ironed out and a system of passing on leadership was given to whoever earned it. Now, a lax hand wouldn't be given to the merc gangs who abused their positions and people weren't going to be kept alive because of their entertainment value. Omega was on its ways to becoming a place where people can build lives and homes.

The signing was beginning, the collective breath of everyone present and spectating at home were held. Kandros was signing the contract first, then Rev, Aria herself, and him last. As Kandros opened up the holo to add her fingerprint to make it contractually binding, Garrus held his breathe with the rest of the crowd—

And kept it held when he felt the nozzle of a rifle against the back of his head, the safety latched clicked off.

That day was supposed to be a good day, instead, he felt the quivering of someone holding a rifle to his head— Ripper' string of curses as he mumbled: "I'm sorry, boss. But my family, shit. _Shit_. Fuck-fuck-fuck."

Several shots rang out behind him, and a body fell next to him with a thud.

Krul's blood was green, crawling its way to him before bumping against his boot. A shot rang closer to him and Ripper's beloved rifle fell on to the floor. Ripper followed soon after, landing on his knees before he slumped down dead. On the back of Garrus's neck, something warm slid down his cowl and into his armor. He reached for his own gun as turned around, his sidearm fell as a blow to the shoulder rang in his ears and his shields went down from the sniper's bullet. A vorcha stood close, ready with his flamethrower and he aimed it Garrus—

Everything burned.

Montaegue from the side, a savage scream on his throat, rammed into the vorcha and emptied his clip on the merc. "Protect the boss! Get out of here, _now_!"

He heard more bodies fall but he failed to comprehend when he heard screams, orders being said, hands on his arms that dragged and begged him to move. But the pain seared itself through his skin, and he held back a scream as Mierin held his burned wrist.

The last thing he saw before the doors to arena closed was Lantar Sidonis standing over Montaegue's body, a foot on the man's corpse as he stared back at Garrus.

Today— that day— was supposed to be a good day.

Why? Why did it happen?

He reached for his assault rifle, clutched it between his hands. Never mind that he had to fight not to black out. Nevermind that his right eye had been melted shut. His visor illuminated his face like a vicious, flickering blue fire as it overclocked itself from the sustained damage. Somebody in that other room had to die, had to pay for this.

"Boss!" Mierin pulled him back by the uninjured shoulder. "You can't go back in there! There's too many of them! The west door might open too."

"Fall back, Vakarian!" He heard Kandros' order but he didn't care. He needed to open that door—

"Mei!"

Vortash stood in front of them, between the bullets, his shield torn to shreds. Garrus couldn't count the guns, only saw the flashes as Mei screamed— falling to kneel beside Vortash's body before she pulled out a gun too and shot one man down while his line of men reloaded.

Garrus aimed but was pulled aside by Kandros at the same time he saw Mierin's head get blown. Kandros threw a Lift Grenade and pulled up a barrier before it exploded, sending the mercs flying against the walls, cracking skulls, and burning through armor.

Now they were on the run, slipping into tunnels and leaving neutral territory. In the base, everything was finally revealed when one of the recruits showed a recording of the aftermath.

He saw Ripper's and Montague's body being piled atop all the other Talon and merc corpses. Saw the trail of green Krul's left behind as they let him be dragged and torn by the varren. He heard the laughter as a Blue Sun Merc put a headless Mei on top a bloodless Vortash in a mocking embrace. Aria put her hands up, signalling the people to be calm as the Blue Suns leader, Tarak and Lantar Sidonis stood behind her.

Sidonis— his right hand man, his confidante, his friend.

"Citizens of Omega, it is an insult to all of us that weaklings even attempted to rule you, to _tame_ you. You have seen for yourself that the Convocation do not know you the same way I do, they cannot protect you." She smiled. "But I can."

"So, who will you rally behind? Who will you depend on? _Choose_ , Omega. And choose wisely." She signaled for her men to start filing out. "Because it will cost you your life."

* * *

Every night Garrus had seen the same dream.

Every night Garrus woke up, screaming.

Garrus saw the darkest days of his life since then.

The power vacuum attempted to swallow them: territories fell, people were bribed and conquered, men either left Omega in droves or rallied behind T'Loak's banner. Only the most loyal remained but even the most loyal felt that they were better off dead. Garrus had killed more people in a month than he did in three years: some of them people he knew as men of his Archangel team and other Talons. Most were Aria loyalists, however, and he took immense pleasure by taking them out.

For a long time it was only getting worse. On the Talon's end it wasn't much better and Kandros was burning out: brighter and more stunning than before but how long would that last until Aria finally had her hands around all their necks?

Steadily, things got better and the powers balanced themselves. T'Loak may have had more people but the loyal who stayed with the Convocation were fierce and die-hard. They retained enough land to be a threat and enough people to protect that land. People who believed in their fight held strong— even when all around them people ran to the other camp, begging for their lives. Fights broke out between turfs and they were back to their stalemate with the only difference being more bloodshed— anyone who was even suspected of supporting one camp over the other had a target on their head. Economy slowed down till a near halt until No Man's Land was established in Tuhi but even then there was more looting, larceny, and death than Garrus ever wanted. Things outside Omega dimmed—as far as anyone knew this was all the galaxy comprised of.

What was left of the original Archangel, his lieutenants, were a show of great courage. They remained strong in the fight by fighting harder. But away from all the men, away from prying eyes they were haunted by the same ghosts. Melanis and Weaver took to the training hall a lot more, Sensat and Grundan talked about upcoming missions in great detail. The worst of them was Erash, who had become more neurotic and more paranoid of every recruit, burning through psychological examinations, background checks— and even more background checks atop that. Butler had not spoken since the day he saw his best friend die.

As for Garrus, he woke up every day to look himself in the mirror. The fire had taken half his face, had seared his old armor into his right shoulder and arm. Solus, had done all he could. He managed to save Garrus's eye and his eyesight. He might have lost his shooting arm too but Solus had repaired the nerve and muscle damage, replacing it with a bone weave that might have been even stronger and more efficient than his real arm.

He looked at himself and went about the rest of the day with just one rule: How will this bring me closer to killing Lantar Sidonis?

* * *

"Boss," Erash nodded, his four eyes blinked at the same time as he turned back to the plethora of feeds he had before him. "Good, you're here."

Garrus squashed his impatience and his complaints. Erash didn't explain whether this was important to the goals of the day, whether this was about recruitment or Sidonis or anything. All he said was that it was important and that he should make the time.

"The feeds in the borders of Tuhi caught some people."

"Near Eden Blue?" Garrus looked at the frozen screen. Of course he cared about Nalah but it didn't look like any attacks were happening so why was he called here? "What about it? They look like tourists to me."

"One of them isn't. Look," He tapped his screen with a long finger nail. Spirits, someone should tell Erash to keep up with the standards of grooming. Even the room was starting to smell like mold and stale air. Erash, unbeknownst to Garrus's thoughts, activated his omni-tool and let the video play.

Two women stood beside each other, one of them covered in tattoos and smoking. The other holding a bag of groceries— by them were pets, a varren and a _Kendra_. The one holding a grocery bag turned around and began to walk. She looked up, directly at the hidden camera and mouthed something as she stared up with a smile—

"Hi, cranky." Erash said as he paused the video. "Only residents could possibly get familiar with cameras around this place— especially the ones near Eden Blue. And she called me _cranky_. I've played this video 1,367 times to read what she said and I am sure that is what she said."

Garrus looked at his hacker impassively. "I don't see your point, Erash."

Erash sighed, in the same manner he used to before— before that day— like he was surrounded by idiots that couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of his work. "That same pair was sighted near Forlorn— the battle pit at the east end of Tuhi— an hour ago. Today, Aria had reserved a fight for her men's entertainment." He brought up the feed of entrance of Forlon, the krogan guard stopping them as they cut in line until a batarian ran out and hit the krogan over the head and let them pass. "They got in with barely any trouble. They're important to Aria. And if they're important to Aria..."

 _They're worth killing,_ Garrus supplied mentally. He felt the tremors of excitement to the tips of his talons at the thought of moving closer to Aria, and in effect, moving closer to killing Sidonis.

Garrus turned away from the screen, making his way out of the surveillance room. "Tell Sensat to gear up. And Kandros to bring some people along. We're leaving in ten."


	3. Tourist's Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back. It's been a while but I will be updating at least once every two weeks. Enjoy this new chapter!

When Shepard left Omega five years ago, Forlorn was just an abandoned building on the edge of Tuhi—a place where some of the vorchas would huddle up in front of cans of makeshift heaters and dug holes deep enough to take a crap in.

Now, it had been rebuilt into a fighting pit. Omega had a few of those around but this one was huge—a great equalizer among the betters. Especially with the new rules in place.

"So, let me get this straight," Jack said as she gave their pets some food and water. "Sources from your mother —Liara— say that Omega has more rules than the one?"

"Just one other—and it's a complicated one. And please, just Liara. She's more like a bossy older sister." Shepard sifted through the extranet—having hacked into Shadow Broker's database was a great risk—especially since she went AWOL without expressed permission from Liara, who preferred that if she had to break laws and cause havoc, that the asari be forewarned. No, having Liara find out she went to Omega right now would have her sending storms down on all of them. Definitely not an option.

"We can't kill on neutral grounds—not even because it's supposed to be neutral—but because whoever you kill suggests an affiliation to either one side. If you cross borders, it puts a target the size of a frigate on your head. The big guys don't kill on neutral ground because equilibrium would be disrupted. Only neutral zone is Tuhi."

"Well, at least that grocery was on Gozu's border and the vorcha I killed didn't look so affiliated to anyone." Jack mumbled before she closed her eyes and sighed. "Anything else I should know?"

"Yeah," Shepard opened a few videos for download and more dossiers. "Try not to kill any of the brass on either side. They're likely to be someone I know, a friend."

"And I can't even kill the ones worth killing?" Jack muttered. "This is going to be the worse vacation. Ever."

As the two of them climbed up to the VIP balcony of Forlorn, pets trailing behind them, Shepard didn't doubt her instructor's words. Before they could climb the last set of stairs, a turian stopped them, rifle ready. "Only the girl can go the rest of the way up." He motioned his jaw at Shepard.

"Not if I blow your head off."

"Jack," Shepard put a hand out to stop her. "As much fun as I think it will be to blow this place up too—I think some diplomacy is needed." She smiled at Jack's muttered curse. "Take Count and Eezo with you and head back to our place. This could take a while."

Jack looked at her. "You're not fucking serious? Aria could put a bullet in your brain before you even wave hi."

"Don't worry. I know Aria. How did you think we even managed to get in here, huh?" She nudged the older biotic. "Make dinner."

Jack rolled her eyes, make dinner meant "snoop around somewhere else" and she was likely to take Aria's side of the fence. She turned a glare at the turian and sneered as Eezo snapped at him. Count hesitated to follow after Jack but Shepard gave him a nudge in the other woman's direction and he moved along, albeit with less enthusiasm than she wanted.

Shepard made her way up alone. She saw too many new faces and nodded at the surprised old ones as she made her way up two sets of stairs and into the private balcony. In a way, she missed the red couch and the gyrating asaris, even the bass of the music—now all she heard were the catcalls and cheers of spectators as they pitted a krogan against a batarian, wrestling each other in mud and blood.

Aria wasn't looking down at them though. She was looking at Shepard, facing her—waiting.

Shepard knew Aria. She knew her as a ruthless ruler—because otherwise, how else could the lawless respect her? She kept people alive for her entertainment, killed them for the mere pleasure of it too. And that was why Shepard had survived all those years because Aria had deemed her worthy of some watching over.

Aria was full of flaws—unkindness, selfishness, cruelty beyond imagining. The vids of the Betrayal (which Shepard watched while Jack napped— had her teeth dug so deep into the skin of her lip that it drew blood) reminded her of those flaws. But in a place like Omega, so close to the Nemean Abyss, they needed something to be afraid of or else the place would have been swarming with slavers and people worse than merc gangs.

The Aria T'Loak that Shepard knew wouldn't have let the Convocation gain so much power, agree to sign a treaty, and then backstab them. Not when a united front could only benefit Omega—and if there was anything Aria loved more than herself, it was Omega. The Betrayal didn't help Omega—it only destroyed it.

"Shepard," Aria spoke—low, dangerous. "You've grown."

Shepard hadn't heard this voice in five years. And because she couldn't resist, she walked up to the asari, stood right in front of her—shuffling her weight between her two feet before Aria sighed. She stood from a boring chair, fit enough only for her to sit on, before Shepard buried her face in Aria's chest and put her arms around her back.

Aria never hugged back. Never.

But if it was invited, if it was welcomed, then she would never stop it.

"Tell me who our enemies are." Shepard whispered. Her mouth was unseen by the cameras and too soft to be heard by clearly by the bugs. "Tell me who to kill."

Aria put a hand on the back of her head, fingers slipping into her short hair. With the grit of Aria's teeth against her brow, the asari hissed the death sentence and sealed it with the touch of her lips: "Cerberus."

* * *

Shepard never could deny the call to run. Even if it was in the dead of night, but in Omega it was always dark, the night cycle was just as dangerous as the day.

When she moved to Ilium, even as her asari and human classmates had sneered at their differences, Shepard had never let Ilium security and not even the merc gangs stop her from running. She'd memorized the routes, found new ones, learned the map by trespassing on every private property, dodging every security patrol, and slipping past Liara's spies and cameras. Everything about Ilium was dissimilar from Omega. All the other places she'd memorized because of missions, training, and vacations had the same effect on her—the Citadel, Thessia, and even Earth— but nothing compared to the spirit that swallowed Omega.

Now, Omega was the same and yet different. In the property owned by the Convocation—there was some measure of order and cleanliness. Some buildings had been rebuilt to make stronger ones. The air lacked the stench of smoke and sweat. Vorcha and other homeless races had been relocated to makeshift sanctums and every corner had groups on patrol. But the zone was quiet, too quiet for a place that was truly at peace. As she scaled up a wall, and flipped over to the other side—the back of her neck prickled with cold air.

She turned to a camera, hidden between the intricate metal vines of the fire escape's railing. She waved at it. Man, she wondered, was Erash still the only one watching these feeds? She doubted four eyes were enough to really keep a look out on every one of them and still stay somewhat sane.

She was making her way to the doc's—she hoped it was still the doc's, anyway. She needed to make sure that all her facts were checking out—well, Shadow Broker files were always pretty detailed and accurate but she didn't want to hack into Liara's database any more than she already had.

There was a huge task set before her. She needed to check all her sources before planning her course of action. Aria trusted her with this task and for Shepard, she was more than happy to admit that she was doing this for more than just Omega and Aria, she was doing this for herself too. She had already sent Jack a message to reconvene; it wasn't fair for her to stay when she didn't know how much was at stake. Moreover, Jack had every right to leave if she wanted to.

It would involve more trickery, more deception than Shepard ever wanted to know about.

Shepard rolled as she landed on her feet, from one of the bunker roofs. She looked left, right and made a smooth dive into one of the alleys—

Where she spotted the glint of a sniper's scope on the far building, she ducked behind a dumpster and the bullet flew right where her head had been barely a second ago and embedded itself into the wall.

Jesus, that sniper was far. Way too far to be that accurate. She hadn't seen a sniper like that since—

Just like Garrus. Hah, like a Convocation flunky knew how well they tangoed in the old days. Garrus must have a whole squad of snipers that kissed the ground he walked on.

Now it was just like old times—but not the good ones because, fuck, she'd been out of her mind when she was sixteen. She ignored Feron's voice in her head that told her she was still as crazy as hell. She looked around for some way to tell the sniper that this was technically friendly fire.

She heard running from the street she came from, she flipped out of her place behind the dumpster just in time before a Shockwave could knock her out cold. That could be Sensat or that could be another asari but she didn't want to risk doing anything irreparable—she dove instead into the window, rolling and righting herself and taking off in a sprint. The building was an abandoned old apartment complex, built in a 21st century earth-style if the old-school door and wood floor paneling was anything to go by. Unsettling the dust and tinkling of scattered glass for every lift and scrape of her boots against the floor. She made her way out the door and into the hallway and up the staircase.

She ducked when she noted the high window, mid-flight of the stairs and another bullet seared through the glass and into a step. She flipped so that her feet landed shakily on the railing and she sped her way up, dodging another bullet when she flipped down. She rammed into one of the first rooms, the door fell off its hinges and her with it, scattering the dust and she coughed when she took a deep breath.

The hallway was a death trap. The biotic was already making her way to her. And she was covered in layers of dust.

Fuck, to think it would suck so much to be home.

Still, her younger self preened, today was still a damn good day so far.

She put her back against the corner of the room, as far as she could possibly be from the hallway and the open door frame but still be able to see a bit of the staircase. She sent a Singularity out far enough that it hit the railing. She heard the creak of wood as someone stepped on the staircase before she detonated it with a Warp.

She rode out the explosion and the force, let it unsettle the debris and glass and dust and shrouding the hall from the sniper's angle, hoping it may have bought her enough time from the biotic on her tail, if not injured her enough to back down. Shepard dashed out to reach the other end of the hallway, grabbing on to the top of the window frame before swinging her legs through—she slipped out with her feet on the window ledge and noted how strong the wind was before she dropped, feet landing on the ledge of the first floor before she flipped down on another alley and broke into a dash without missing a beat. Climbing up a lidded dumpster before jumping over to a high wall, she grabbed on to its edge before she lifted herself up, still crouched when she noted the line of Talons waiting for her, rifles trained at her.

One was a big dog by the way she stood off to the side—her entire bearing completely different but she wasn't someone she recognized. Her hand glowed blue with biotics which was unusual for a turian. "You're good, kid but don't move. I don't want this to escalate any more than it has."

As Shepard stretched to her full height, she heard the running footsteps behind her. She spared a glance at the alley behind her and noted the black armor of the helmeted biotic that was chasing her. If she escaped that way there was still the sniper to contend with for miles. And even during missions she still held one thing sacred all throughout the years: she'd rather face a battalion than run from the scope of a deadly sniper.

She used a Throw on one of the Talons in line, controlled it minutely enough so that he would fly into two others to his right. While they were down on the floor, the two left standing opened fire and the biotic turian threw a Lift Grenade, damn she hated those—

Shepard was ready for it, summoning her strength so a Warp would be in its way—it detonated close enough between them that Shepard had to drop to the ground, summon up a small barrier and ride out the explosion again. A few of the Talons shouted and someone was propelled against the wall. Shepard took her window of opportunity to run past them and into the main street, an alarm was sounding all throughout the district and she sped up, moving into another street where she opened up the hatch of one of Aria's tunnels—

"If you move even an inch, you'll have to say goodbye to that nice head of yours."

Shepard froze. Not because she had a gun trained to her head. But because she knew that voice and the distinct flanging that came with it. She knew the tentative steps he took towards her, rifle out and aimed at her skull.

"You think my head is nice, Archangel?"

She turned around with a smile. She expected a warning shot to her shoulder or near her head but he didn't fire.

His finger was on the trigger, however. His visor glowed with a distinct blue light against his face, a pain so sharp ran through her to see the scars there—almost as if they were fresh, black roots that broke the surface of his skin and plating—tech could have removed those easily but if she knew Garrus then he'd probably keep them for as long as the job wasn't done.

He didn't put his rifle down. He took another four steps to close the distance. "I said, don't you fucking move, tourist."

Shepard bristled. No way in hell was she going to let Garrus call her a tourist in her own home. "Hey, did your sense of humor get burned along with that mug of yours?"

She noted his scarred ungloved hand tensing, his trigger finger curled and he was probably tempted to shoot. Still a hothead but not so much, at least enough to get a painful smile out of him. "You're cheeky for someone who could die."

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Garrus, have you _always_ been this slow?"

She was close enough to see his narrowed eyes clearly, close enough to see them widen slowly in realization as he lowered his rifle down. "Shepard?" He whispered, like he couldn't—like he wasn't allowed to say her name out loud.

Shepard closed the rest of the distance, sliding between his arms and holding on to his narrow waist in the tightest embrace she could manage. She smiled against his armor, "I'm back." She looked up at his face. "Miss me?"

Shepard could have sworn he was shaking when he dropped his gun and hugged her back.


	4. Irreconcilable Differences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not into character bashing. I hope what Millie says about Alenko doesn't come across as such. :) Enjoy!

Garrus escorted Shepard to less hostile territory, still under the control of the Convocation. She had given his whole team long and invasive hugs and they were returned in full. Grundan even threw her into the air a few times before Sensat paled and yelled at him to stop when Shepard started to look green.

Melanis, guiltiest of all, since she had nearly killed her several times, hugged her the longest. Shepard had waved off her apology and gave her a hug as well. "Spirits, we missed you kid."

Shepard laughed and stepped away from the hug. "I did too, Mel. Where's Butler?"

As if he heard his name being called, the man moved closer to them. Shepard reached for his hands and tilted her head with a smile. "Hey you. Nalah said you haven't been doing so great."

Butler didn't speak, but he did smile— Garrus hadn't seen that in months. He took a step back , crossing his arms as he looked Shepard up and down. And then, he made a general shape in the air that looked like— a vase?— and then gave Shepard the thumbs up.

Shepard turned red as Mel laughed at her. "Delicate as always, Butler. Is that all you could think about after not seeing the kid in five years?"

"What was he thinking about?" Garrus asked.

Grundan cleared his throat. "Nothing, boss."

Garrus shrugged as they all smiled sweetly at him. Shepard took him by the arm. "Didn't you wanna talk to me about something, Garrus?"

"Right." He turned. "This way."

During the whole walk, Shepard didn't mention how much Gozu had changed, nor did she comment on the fact that the Convocation headquarters was not in Kima.

That place was controlled by the Blue Suns and Sidonis now. Garrus's burned hand clenched at the thought of him, but he kept his face as pleasant as possible until he led Shepard into one of the interrogation rooms.

Shepard. She was still her but in other ways she wasn't. She still had too much quad for someone so small but now she had a sway to her hips that he hadn't noticed before—did she even have hips back in the day? Her air was more confident and less obscure, her eyes large, open, and welcoming. When she had hugged him, she had managed to get her arms all around his waist and she had been soft and warm when he rested his mandible on her head.

He leaned against the door frame when she took a seat and lifted her legs onto the table.

Why now? Why did she have to visit now when he needed to focus?

He couldn't say it out loud. He didn't want to tarnish the reunion with somebody who meant worlds to him, had saved his life, and had admired and respected him.

Like his old team? Like Mei? Like Vortash? Ripper, Krul, Monty?

He didn't want to think about what they'd say to him for losing focus.

"You all right, big guy?"

Shepard's voice was much lower, sultry, and emotive. It matched her kind smile.

He nodded, crossing his arms. Nodding was a human thing he managed to pick up over the years— it didn't mean much even when he was learning it in the military over holos ages ago until he had to work with humans in C-Sec and later in Omega. But it was easy to forget these small things when worked piled up and he spoke less and less to even the crew.

She shrugged, looking at him for a while before her smile got wider. "You really became more of an old man while I was gone, huh?"

He chuckled, unintentionally, and he hated himself for it. He didn't want to tarnish this reunion. And maybe he'll be angry about this later and think this was a waste of his time but—this was Shepard, his Shepard.

"Shepard," He approached the table, leaning his hands against it. "I'm glad that I got to see you—that the team got to see you too. You visited Nalah first, right?"

"I met her son." She nodded, smile still in place. "He's pretty clever. Must be his mom's genes."

Garrus chuckled. "Don't let Butler know we all think so too."

She moved her feet out of the way and leaned against the table. "My lips are sealed." She perked up. "Do you know where the doc is, by the way?"

"He's in this facility. You can catch up with him later."

She sighed, relieved. "All right. Now, what is it you wanted to tell me?"

He nodded. He paced back and forth in front of her, once, twice. She waited for him patiently and he cleared his throat. "We need to know why you're here. Surveillance caught you going into Forlorn."

"Ah. I see." She shrugged. "That should have been the plan—rather than gunning me down, hm?"

"Yeah. We thought you were—"

Shepard put her hand up. "It's in the past. I've forgiven you for—similar crimes."

He nodded as she continued to smile. "So, what brought you all the way to Omega? You said you'd be in missions for at least a year."

Shepard laughed, her eyes clouding—lost in memories. He'd probably had that same look about him most days. Trances he got stuck in that Mel or Titania usually had to shake him out off. "So, you know I'm second lieutenant now, right?" She waited for his nod before she continued with a huff. She leaned against the back of her chair and huffed again. "After training under Jack—you know, crazy badass biotic commander lady I said I loved to bits—she recommended me for an assignment under her corps, the Second Spec Ops Biotic Company. Instead, I got assigned to the First."

His eyes widened. That didn't sound like a small assignment if this was a Special Operations unit. "That's amazing, Shepard."

She rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought at first. When I told Jack she laughed in my face, gave me a pat on the shoulder and said: 'Get ready, kid.' Of course I didn't really get what she meant until I met my commanding officer. Commander Kaidan Alenko. Fuck."

"So, uh, what's wrong with him?"

She crossed her arms. "He sounds like a pussy."

Garrus guffawed. A sound he realized he hadn't made in a long time and it hurt his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand and urged her to continue. She sighed and crossed her legs as well. "Well, he'd probably be tolerable if I had grown up more or less normal. You know, learned some sympathy?"

He shook his head and laughed. "You're plenty sympathetic, Shepard."

"I meant, really sympathetic. Like, patient with people who think they have problems?"

"Right. Patience for people. Not so much on that bit."

She nodded and went on. "But fuck, I get that he'd been horribly mistreated as a human biotic and he went through some horrible training but I didn't _ask_ to know."

"So, you have problems because he can't keep his mouth shut?"

"No, I have problems because he can't keep his mouth shut, has no sense of personal space, and he just wants me to know everything about him when I _don't_." She waved away Garrus's amusement. "You wouldn't be smiling if you had to listen to the orders of a weenie. Good at what he does weenie, but still a weenie. You would _not._ So," She laced her fingers together. "Endured half a year of that shit till I knew I would kill him if he spoke to me again and just when I had that resignation note in my hand—don't look at me like that Garrus, you would have shot him if you were in my place, you will _not_ judge me—Jack says she got some leave because she needed to take care of unfinished business. She needed someone who had her back and could hold her own. So, I changed my letter to one for leave that would buy us a few months."

"So, we went planet and meteor-hopping to blow up a bunch of Cerberus facilities."

He nearly fell off his chair. "You _what_?"

"Jack has an awful, criminal past too. She needed the catharsis and she finally had the means to do it. I was more than willing to get more experience and learn from someone I actually respect. It was a win-win situation I couldn't refuse." She shrugged. "Cerberus had it coming. Blowing up a handful of facilities probably had them gritting their teeth."

He buried his face in his hands and shook his head. He held back his laugh. "You're insane."

"I won't deny that." She laughed back. "Problem is, we had a little too much fun doing things we shouldn't be doing that we're late for reporting back to duty. Now, we're AWOL too."

" _What_?"

"And, since we were in big trouble anyway, we thought it was possible to take a detour to Omega since this place lost contact for a while and I wanted to know what was happening. So, surprise!"

By now, Garrus had slumped into the chair across her, head in hands, trying to fathom what went wrong when everyone was trying to raise Millie. Then he laughed, he had a safer childhood and he ended up in Omega, working as a vigilante. Really, it was just Millie's nature to balance along the edge of right and wrong.

"Garrus," She called his attention and he looked at her. Her chin was propped up on her laced fingers and her smile small but her eyes twinkled. "I think it's your turn to share. What's been happening here?"

He sighed. "What do you know?"

"I saw the video of—the Betrayal. And Nalah told me about those we've lost." She closed her eyes. "Heard bits and pieces from some databases and Aria—"

"Don't talk about her."

"Garrus," Shepard began. Her mouth was open to speak but then she shut it.

"What?"

She turned away, glaring at the wall. "No, it's better not to say. Not when I have nothing to show for it."

Garrus leaned over the table, weight on his arms. He looked through his visor and read her calm heart rate, her clear grey blue eyes, and her relaxed posture. He didn't want to ruin seeing her, speaking to her. But the call for blood ran through him like fire, burning everything he saw. "Is this about Forlorn?"

She barely flinched. "Not surprised if you have proof that I entered. I won't deny it."

"What did she tell you?"

"I can't say." She shrugged. "But trust me to—"

"Are you siding with her?"

Shepard glared at him. "I'm only doing what I think is right by Omega. And I don't think this is about sides. I need to inves—"

"Are you a spy?"

She rolled her eyes. "If I were a spy for Aria, do you think I would tell you?"

He slammed his fists against the table. She didn't jump at the sound but her eyes were wide, surprised— with maybe a twinge of fear. "I'm not in the mood for your games, Shepard. There is a war going on in Omega, long story short. There isn't anything else to share. But I need to know I can trust you."

"You can trust me." Shepard answered readily. She had a smile on her face that Garrus hadn't really seen her wear before—was it because she was older now? Was it because he hadn't seen her for a long time? "You just choose not to."

He bared his teeth at her. "I haven't decided that yet."

She shook her head, no. "No, big guy, I think you decided the moment you saw me enter Forlorn." She stood, walking towards the door.

"If you leave this base, everyone in the Convocation will consider you a probable conspirator." He said through gritted teeth. If he was honest with himself, he didn't want Shepard to leave. He wanted her to stay— help his cause, help his team. "You won't have a friend left on this side of Omega."

Her hand paused on the lock of the door. He studied her, her short hair, her slender frame. She turned to him with strange eyes—a burning, a fury that he had only known when he received his scars. "I wanted to say that Omega has changed you—but that isn't it, is it?"

"Shepard," He sighed. Damn it, why was she making this so hard? "If you stayed here then we can all vouch that you're not on Aria's side. You can stay here and help us finish this, win this."

"I came to Omega to find a friend. I didn't realize that by coming here I would end up losing him." She touched the pad on the door and unlocked it. "Goodbye, Garrus."

If she wasn't going to side with him—then she was going to go back to Aria, right? She was the enemy. Even after seeing the vids of the Betrayal—even knowing that his teammates were killed by Sidonis and the Blue Suns, she was still going to walk away from him. She was going to leave him.

_Why did you come back, Shepard? What was the point if you weren't going to stay here?_

Why now when he needed to focus?

"Shepard!"

He called after her, once, only once, as she entered the hallway. Even when she was no longer around, he stood there watching, calling— voiceless.


	5. Sociopaths

"How long are you going to mope?"

Shepard didn't reply. She'd been sitting, staring at the window with the fluffy blanket draped over her. When Jack threw a pillow that bounced off her head, Count saw it as an opportunity to cuddle as he sidled close to her and put his head against her lap.

"He hasn't been thinking about me at all." Shepard sniffed. Falling back against the pillow, Count moved away—mewling at the loss of contact before he moved to her back instead and made his own nest there which made Shepard sigh. "I thought about him all the time while we weren't talking and he hasn't thought about me at all."

She could feel, rather than see, Jack roll her eyes. "So, we've been idle for two days because you've had your heart ripped to ribbons?"

"We are _not_ being idle. You've been going out getting Intel on T'Loak's territory and I've been waiting back on my information brokers." She lifted her arm where her omni-tool glowed. "I wanted to run and re-memorize Omega but I don't exactly want to get shot."

Eezo barked and followed Jack to the only bed in the room. She didn't bother to take her boots off and plopped down beside Count. "So, tell me about this Archangel. Did he save your life or something?"

"Other way around." Shepard mumbled. "He was the tourist just five years ago. Now, he's making waves in this place. I could approve of some of the changes but for the most part, the cleanliness puts me on edge."

"So, you don't approve of the do-gooder's works?"

Shepard sighed. "Omega is the heart of the Terminus System, right next to the Nemean Abyss—it's got eezo deposits up the wazoo and barely enough tech to keep it from getting stolen. What protects Omega is its reputation. Imagine if a bunch of clean, fair people took over this place. Moreover, people who don't dabble much on the business side of Omega will likely only see the crime rate as the only problem here but it isn't. For 200 years, the old lady has been dealing with all of these things: security, trade, and terror. Her name scares the living daylights out of a 900 year old krogan. A bunch of pansies isn't going to make a batarian sneeze, much less encourage the elcor and volus to broker trade with low or fair prices."

Jack snorted. "So—what? You think their work is bad? Giving homeless places to stay? Little kids like you clothes to wear and food to eat?"

"No, these are good changes. I wish there was a way that no kid has to live on Omega's streets." Shepard sat up and sighed and free fell back onto the bed. Count licked her face as she plopped herself back down and against her pillows. "But Omega has to keep its mask if it wants to survive."

Jack punched her lightly on the shoulder. "You know a lot about Omega's inner workings. Too much. I know you were an info courier— a Runner, a Tracer or something— but I'm sure you couldn't read all your clientele's stuff, right?"

"I didn't. But I spent a great deal of time trailing after Aria and sometimes staying on her floor in Afterlife." She shrugged. She hated Afterlife as she got older but damn—she really missed that godforsaken place. Smiling, she saw herself, thirteen years old—a parkour trainee who scampered after Aria like a lost _kendra,_ full of questions until she realized that she'd only get silence and the privilege (or punishment) of listening to business talk. "Aria is definitely not behind that betrayal. I know she's telling the truth and I'm going to prove it to the Convocation, even if it kills me."

Jack sighed. "We can't stay here for long, kid. Sooner or later, the Alliance is going to demand answers. Hackett can be forgiving but the rest of the geezers are worse than your textbook, uptight turian."

Shepard turned around, Count moved his face next to her neck and she petted him on the head. "So, what's your plan?"

"I need to report back—for the both of us. I'm a Commander, I can tell them I gave you an important assignment and that you won't be back for a while."

"You think Alenko will like that?"

Jack cackled. "Hell, no. But that's part of the fun. He may be the Alliance's golden boy but if he thinks he can pull rank, he can bite me. I happen to be a serious Alliance investment myself."

Shepard smirked at that before looking up at the roof as well. Jack struck a deal with Alliance before she became Shepard's instructor—that she'd be given certain immunities against law and order after all the acts of terrorism, violence, and (oddly) vandalism— provided that she do work for the Alliance when summoned. At around the same time, Shepard had been having trouble with her L4 prototype. She was already 16 when her biotic abilities properly manifested but she'd been scored to have a decent amount of power and good control, if taught properly. Liara herself had instructed her on a few things but Shepard needed more attention than she could provide. They had tried putting her in a school for biotics but she hadn't been able to acclimatize properly with other students and didn't have "the good sense to respect authority," as Feron put it with a snicker.

Liara found Jack, hired her specifically to be her instructor when she was put on a two year leave because she "Blew something up that shouldn't have been blown up." At that time Shepard was 17 and Jack paraded around half-naked.

The two of them clicked like a thermal clip and in a rifle. Jack had fixed herself up in the two years she'd taught her. The Alliance saw the good influence when she returned to work— Jack rose in ranks and they felt that anyone she recommended for military training ought to be worth their salt.

Instead, they got two crazies. Hell raisers who could get the job done, yeah. But, damn did they break a lot of stuff.

"I think they separated us for a very good reason." Shepard laughed. "It would have been way too much fun."

Jack smirked. "Please, we're just that good. You've been climbing up the ranks yourself."

"Hah, I'm ready to get demoted anytime though."

"Nah, we're biotic investments. The Alliance has more money than it ever fucking needs." Jack sat up and turned to her. "Speaking of which, tell me that you can at least go around now. I know you have ways to escape bullets."

There was a knock on the door. Eezo and Count bounded towards it, barking and howling. Count bore his teeth and glowed blue with biotics. Jack pulled out her gun but Shepard put hand over it and shook her head. "That knock is my key to escaping bullets."

* * *

Morinth hadn't changed a bit. Neither the slow smile, nor the intense hungry look in her eyes—in fact they seem to have become more intense now, but Shepard didn't want to think about that.

Shepard was on the floor, inspecting the piles of clothes—loose clothes that were more suited for the flying and running around. She missed not being in armor or uniform all the time. She would have lain down on the pile of them if Count hadn't already, (damn kendra—always having all the fun). Since Eezo was there to be menacing for both them, he didn't need to snap and growl at Morinth so long as he was close to Shepard.

Jack, on the other, had pulled a chair to sit across the Ardat-Yakshi. She leaned her elbows on her thighs, ready to pounce, eyes barely blinking. Of course, Jack was just like any feral, biotic killing machine—and she didn't have a weakness for lying down on soft things.

Shepard shrugged. "I'm well aware she's dangerous, Jack. Glaring doesn't make her any less volatile."

"Maybe I'd feel safer if she stopped looking at us like we were grilled meat." Jack grumbled.

Morinth smiled. "I'd like to think Shepard has become a fine, fine wine while she was away from Omega. Meat is rather unrefined in comparison." There was that strange lingering gaze again. Then the asari turned to her instructor. "And though a bit too angry, you'd sate the thirst."

Jack growled. "You get even an inch closer to the girl or me and your blood will be all over the walls."

Morinth sighed. "I've missed being challenged. It's almost like you two came at the right time—though it's a little depressing how against it you both are."

Jack turned wide, disbelieving eyes at Shepard. "Please tell me you didn't grow up with this bitch. She's worse than Eezo in heat."

Shepard shrugged, folding a very nice black hoodie into the acceptable pile and throwing a lace panty at Count to chew on. "I kept interesting company." She looked up at Morinth who turned a very interested gaze at her. "You bought a lot of things I didn't ask for."

"I thought they'd suit you."

"Most of these things have more holes on them than cloth—I think Afterlife had strippers that revealed less than," She picked up a bodysuit—or it could have been one but it was more leather straps sewn together to vaguely resemble a body suit. "This."

Jack took it and chucked it out the window. Slamming it shut, the glass wobbled frighteningly and she plopped back down on her chair with a frown deeper than before. "I don't want to leave you with the sex fiend."

"I'm not going to live with her." Shepard shrugged then smiled as she came upon a nice t-shirt, then looked to the back to find out it was missing its back. Jesus—yes, Jesus would probably shake his head and tell her to take the stairs straight to hell if she even thought wearing this would be appropriate for even the Omega public. "She knows I can't trust her for much more than a favor now and then; though this has definitely changed my mind about any future ventures."

Morinth frowned. "Can't you at least try on the dress?"

Shepard dug through more scandalous items before finding the dress, scoffing as she noted that it was a very nice shade of blue, Vakarian blue to be precise. Other than the color, it was a nice dress—and decent with an asymmetrical string strap and a body hugging bodice. A little more on the short side but only enough for heads to turn and not enough to invite people to put credits down her pockets and ask for a lap dance.

Morinth's smile just got wider as she continued to glare at it. "It clashes with my highlights."

Morinth chuckled. "You make it sound like that's the real problem." Then she shrugged. "You may need it if you want to infiltrate different events around Omega. You can't wear a hoodie into a gala."

Shepard put it into the acceptable pile with a disdainful sniff. "Fine." She stood. "Now we can get to actual business." She opened up her omni-tool interface. "According to my scouts—there isn't anything around Omega that suggests that Cerberus is behind anything. In fact, it seems like Aria's work is more prominent and substantial than ever."

"That doesn't sound too good, kid." Jack leaned forward. "What if it turns out the asari lied to you?"

Shepard frowned. "Aria is a cold-hearted, conniving, murderer—but she's never lied to me. In fact, she's been more than brutally honest. Plus, if Aria really had a handle on the situation, I doubt she likes the way things are running. Afterlife trumps Forlorn any day. And speaking of which," Shepard crossed her arms and turned to Morinth. "What has happened to Afterlife? No one can get to it without more permits than a C-Sec pig."

Morinth crossed her legs, blinking. "I'm sure you noticed the dock near that area has been closed? Afterlife is a coveted zone. Both sides are watching over it, waiting for their chance to infiltrate it and gain the upper hand. So far, no one has managed to get inside and anyone who draws close gets shot." Morinth sighed. "It's become more troublesome to hunt for the right prize because of it—it's not like any street rat could satisfy my needs."

Jack rolled her eyes and huffed. "So, whoever takes over the place could end the stalemate. Why? Is it its position?"

"There is that." Shepard nodded. "But it's what is inside Afterlife that makes it special."

"What? The booze? The bimbos? The _couch_?"

"The couch is a very close second." Shepard smiled and switched her omni-tool off. "But, no. It's because there's some fancy tech underneath the club. Master controls for the mass comm, the switches for the mass effect fields that keeps asteroids away and so on." Shepard started pacing. "Which is why it's impossible for the place to be empty. It's 7.8 million people worth in casualties if there is no one down there keeping things in check—even VIs can malfunction." She stopped, smiling. "That is exactly where anyone would hide something."

Jack and Morinth exchanged identical looks. Jack stood. "I'll be honest with you kid, the possibility of Aria playing with you is pretty damn high."

"She's not. She can't be."

"I don't think T'Loak is out to trick you, child. If anything, I doubt she wanted you to be involved at all."

Jack snorted. "That isn't comforting coming from a life-sucking asari."

Morinth turned slowly to Jack. "And, who are you to be such a great judge of character? Your tattoos suggest a past that points otherwise."

Shepard shook her head as Jack's biotics flared. "That's all I know, guys. I'll need to play the rest by ear. Jack, it would be best for you to report back now—the sooner you leave the sooner you'll, probably, be back. And Morinth, I'll see you when I need you. I'll be moving, just so you know."

Morinth looked like she would sit there all day, just staring at her if Jack hadn't stood in front of her, hand on her hip. She motioned her chin at the door and the asari sighed, standing. Morinth marched ahead and towards the exit with Eezo and Jack behind her.

Jack took the duffel bag on the dining table, gave Shepard one last nod before leaving. Eezo was still growling behind Morinth as she walked out the door. "Don't die while I'm out, kid. Lock the damn door and keep your windows shut. Even at your new place."

"I'll be fine, Jack. Give the Alliance a hard time."

"Hah, plan on it."

When the door shut behind them, Shepard changed the code to her lock and sank back into the bed. Opening her omni-tool interface, she looked dejectedly at Liara T'soni's contact info and linked herself up to the comm buoys.

If she wanted to prove Aria's innocence, it was time to bring out the big guns. Even if it meant getting yelled at for days.


	6. Howl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness. Some issues with how I want this to go. So expect a once-a-month update from now until I can figure out how I want the rest of this to play out.

"Vakarian," Kandros turned around and regarded him with a nod. She had been by her window, overlooking some of the men loading cargo into the warehouse underneath them. Melanis's distant sub-vocals could be heard barking orders. "Glad you came."

"What is it that couldn't be said through the comm?" He shook his head as she motioned at the chair in front of her desk. He looked at it but didn't sit. If he sat it would invite Kandros to take her time. Frankly, he'd rather not waste his with idle chitchat. "I was in the middle of—"

She held up her hand. Sitting across him, she laced her six fingers together. "We've been tracking your kid."

He almost shuffled his feet. It was an old annoying habit he still couldn't get rid of. Especially since Kandros herself could be fairly intimidating, if not a little imperious. Then again, he would be stupid not to be a little bit afraid of a biotic turian.

"Shepard isn't _my_ kid."

Kandros leaned back against her chair. "The way you bare your teeth at me says otherwise."

Garrus growled. "Look, I don't particularly care if you have an entire squad tailing Shepard or just one person, just as long as she's being watched."

"You don't actually think the kid would betray you, do you, Vakarian?"

"Aria practically raised her. What is Archangel in comparison?"

"Then there's been a—miscalculation on her abilities." She clicked her mandible together. "Vakarian, I don't think anyone can keep an eye on her but you."

He clenched and unclenched his fists. "You want to send me to do a grunt's dirty work? I don't remember our numbers dwindling to that extent."

Kandros shook her head. "It's not that. No one can keep up with her."

Garrus's blood froze at that. Looking through his visor, there were no tell-tale signs of lying coming from Kandros's vitals but his eyes narrowed. "How hard is it to keep track of a girl with a kendra trailing after her?"

"It's been almost two weeks. I've sent all sorts of people—the neophytes, the vets, I even sent Titania's squad. All of them were ordered to keep watch but no one can keep up." Kandros leaned her elbows against the desk. "We don't know Omega as well as she does. And she can get very creative."

"What makes you think I can keep up with her then?"

"Because you know Shepard more than anyone else here, watching over her will be like sniping elcor for you."

He closed his eyes for a moment at that. All those years chatting through the extranet, the vid-calls she'd make in the middle of firefights, her drunken reports between downtime—data and time and friendship cultivated from light years away. He knew her favorite color (blood red, human red) and the name of her first boyfriend (Jason). Garrus was the first person she vid-called as she bawled her eyes out and rubbed her bleeding knuckles from the haymaker she gave him (good riddance too). He was the first she called when she got accepted into the Alliance, when she first got promoted, when she got into that accident and broke her arm even though he was all the way in Omega and she was in the Citadel.

And yet, none of that meant anything as she walked out on him and didn't even stop, didn't even look back when he called her.

"There's another reason as well." She cleared her throat. "Vakarian, your team has expressed that they're worried about the hours you've been putting in." Kandros's dual-toned voice brought him back to the present. He heard seriousness, he understood the pity. "I want you to take this opportunity to get some rest. Put your mind at ease so you'll know for sure if we can trust Shepard."

His hands unclenched. "And if I do find out Shepard is a conspirator or a spy for Aria?"

Kandros leaned her mandibles against her laced fingers. "Then I trust you'll be one of the few in your team with the will to end her."

* * *

Even for someone as volatile and as insane as Shepard, there was always a method to her madness.

According to the reports of all the Talons who had to watch over her, Shepard had eyes at the back of her head and had the nose of a bloodhound. Basically, her sixth sense was uncanny, like a wild beast. When one of the teams made the mistake of moving too close, she turned violent—and so did her pet. She didn't kill anyone—which seemed more accidental than deliberate since half of the four man team was still in Mordin's care—but she cut it close with the biotics. Though, seeing how much Shepard improved from the days when she would accidentally set off her biotics just by burping made him proud, yet terrified.

Reports showed consistencies in her behavior. Shepard would mostly walk around before disappearing into an alley or appear out of nowhere from jumping over railings and rooftops. Sometimes the kendra would be tailing close behind, other times the kendra would come out of nowhere in the nick of time. The two seemed to exhibit what the kendra breeders and experts over the extranet called a _cruex_ or a heart-bond—which meant they were connected empathetically, even over distances, because of their attuned biotics. Asari commandos who owned kendras took advantage of this _cruex_ , having their pets go through similar training and even sparring with one another to form deeper and more sophisticated heart-bonds.

To someone with the keen senses of a predator and amplified by what seemed like a rooted heart-bond, her kendra only widened her scope for danger and spies. The Talons never stood a chance so long as her pet understood the threat they posed. And even if Garrus chose to spy on her through his scope, if the distance was too wide it would provide too many blind spots. The first thing to do, therefore, was to shorten the radius.

The only way to do that was to become friends with the pet.

Most turian households were averse to pets of any kind, as most of them might end up as food by the natural order of things. The Vakarian household was especially strict on that front. Garrus had once tried to keep a wild _Blix_ , a furry hare-type creature with a fine metallic coat to ward off radiation—and got severely punished for it before he had to let it go. Garrus wasn't sure exactly how he would appeal to a pet.

He tailed the animal first. He didn't approach it too quickly or draw himself too near it. He'd wait till the pair of them left, leaping over buildings and ledges—Shepard seemed to be trying to re-memorize Omega again. Noting what was new and what was old. The pet seemed to either trail behind in a more sedate pace, likely because of Shepard's instructions to make sure no one was tailing her.

For five days, Garrus made sure to always be near— familiar but not intrusive. He'd be on the bridge as the kendra crossed to get to Shepard, sitting on the bench near the pet while he waited for Shepard to buy something from a store. The animal situated himself on the edge of Shepard's senses on most days and that gave Garrus a good idea of how far to stay—a terrifyingly far distance, not one a former C-Sec detective liked. But this could be a trap set by Shepard for someone like him to think that she could sense him from that far without the kendra.

After the first five days, he moved a little closer to the pet each day. By day ten, the kendra looked at him like he was the most mundane thing he ever saw. When Garrus got close enough to pet him, it was day twelve and he brought out a nice _Blix_ steak which the kendra took greedily—both of them waiting for Shepard to leave a store.

Garrus clenched and unclenched his gloved hands, looking down at his black armor. He reached for his face to be sure that the cosmetics he placed to cover his scar was still in its proper place. He brought up his visor and switched it on to get Shepard's thermal readings, even from his distance. She was standing in front of a rack of potato chips. Garrus shook his head in disbelief. Of course she'd be after the potato chips.

The kendra yawned beside him. Garrus blinked. He reached out to scratch it behind the ears and it purred in response. "Must be tiring to have a madwoman and a glutton as a master."

The kendra tilted his head at Garrus before lying down, jaw against his forepaws. Garrus kept his ministrations, turning around to look at the store again. Garrus stayed on the bench as Shepard left and the kendra followed after her.

"Watch her back."

The animal looked back at him, staring, before running after Shepard.

* * *

As he perched atop one of the abandoned buildings near Shepard's apartment complex, it occurred to him that the kendra had been a gift from Aria. By that time, it was day fourteen, and every time Shepard closed the lights to head to bed, the animal would find him—seek him out—and sit beside him.

He cursed himself for forgetting. Yet, as he looked down at the pet's head, he still reached out to scratch it behind the ears.

"I'm sure you already know—I'm watching your master." He cleared his throat. "I'm wondering if you actually really understand me and why you haven't bitten my hand off."

The kendra yawned. Leaning against his forepaws, he looked out beyond the ledge for a moment before closing his eyes.

"I should kill you too. If I wanted to take this job seriously, watch her without worrying about you coming in between us."

The kendra didn't budge.

"How would she feel if she knew I killed you?" He hunched forward, leaning his elbows on his thighs as he kept his eyes on her window, the curtains on them still drawn. "Or, if you got lucky somehow and you killed me instead. You're her partner though." His laugh scratched his throat. "She'd probably hate me."

Tuhi district's traffic didn't quiet down beneath them. Skycars flew. His comm would crackle with a report from Erash or nearby squads checking their turf near the Tuhi borders. Frankly, he woke these days a little more frustrated than the next. How was this getting him closer to Sidonis? So far, it was hard to find out much about him. Scout and spies were positioned where he lived and prioritized any seen activity with the Blue Suns but the Convocation wasn't getting much luck through conventional methods. Garrus suggested double agents or spies in their ranks but Nyreen shook her head and said the risk was too great when Sidonis knew most of their guys, since he had been in their ranks just months before.

But when Garrus was with the kendra, he felt less pressured and more at ease.

Garrus hated it.

"I had a partner once—in C-Sec." He started as he reached down to scratch the animal's head. It purred in appreciation. "Fellow investigator. Smart. Sharp as a knife. Hah. If you spelled badass it would have been her name. Two years into being with C-Sec she wanted to come back to her roots—she was an Omega orphan herself, like your owner. Her name was Nadine. Both of us were tired of the rules in the Citadel, about how we were barely making a dent.

"It was her idea we come to Omega. Together. I turned her down then—too many ties, too many connections: family, friends, responsibility, patriotism. A few days before she would be officially free from C-Sec, she gets killed by an Eclipse merc during a chase. An explosion. No amount of omni-gel could have saved her.

"I came to Omega to make that difference we both wanted." He leaned his forehead against his clasped and shaking hands. "But damn, I keep thinking that if she had been here instead then she would have known Sidonis was no good. Then no one in the old team would have died."

This time the kendra reacted, looking up at him with his head tilted to the side. Its gold eyes were large and twinkling. He sat up and nudged his right hand. His nose was over the glove where underneath burned plates was a constant reminder of his failure. Whipping around, his three tails slapped against the leg of the chair.

"Spirits," Garrus chuckled. "Maybe Kandros was right. If I need to talk to pet to get a little catharsis then I needed this rest."

The kendra whimpered, sniffing his hand and licking. Then it stood up, bounding, and with a breath and a leap it was on the ledge in front of him with its white coat glowing in spite of the stain of neon colors of Omega. It reminded him all too much of Shepard at 16: effervescent, young, solitary, and powerful. Those were older days, days before he knew who the Shadow Broker's courier was. Shepard would be standing over the edge of the building, looking up at the sky—waiting, he always thought as he looked through his scope at the figure. She was waiting for rain.

Then suddenly, the kendra looked up—poised and alert as a howl escaped it. Resonating against the walls in a vibration so unlike the bass of a seedy club. Raw, reaching into his core before he even realized that the tears had prickled against the edges of his eyes.

He looked away at the second howl and the street turned silent, listening for once. He spotted the light in Shepard's apartment turning on and cussed before ducking, using the animal as cover while his eyes managed to keep watching Shepard through the space between the kendra's stomach and the ledge.

Shepard wasn't in her armor anymore—hoodie on and loose cargos— his visor managed to identify a can of coffee in her hand that she chugged before throwing it back into the apartment. She stepped out into her balcony, eying the kendra who was still howling. She locked the glass door behind her before she looked left and right at the neighboring balconies.

Even from far away, he managed to catch Shepard's smirk before she broke into a run—bolting over the railings.

The kendra looked down at him, eyes piercing.

_Run with us. Hunt with us._

Garrus imagined that was what he was saying. He chuckled. Now, he was imagining that the animal could talk? Yeah, he really needed this rest. "Lead the way."

The kendra released another howl—this time it was more like a signal, the start of a chase, a flare to find a stranded soul—before it left him to follow, barely keeping up as he felt his legs aching, breath catching with a barely swallowed howl of his own.


	7. Loaded Carnifex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I want to promise when I can update but I just really am not sure what direction I'm taking this story. I'll go as slow as I need to, because damn I really love Millie Shepard and she deserves the best from me. I hope you'll give her (and I) your understanding and stick around for the ride.
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy!

_Shepard,_

_I've sent you all the relevant data—as you requested—all of which suggests foul play on Aria's part. Nonetheless, I've sent everything I could find without question. Not because I'm not curious but because my agents already informed me and I do not appreciate the lack of transparency. By the Goddess, Millie, what were you thinking? You're supposed to be old enough, by human standards, to know that hacking into my system and making me worry are bad ideas._

_I wanted to go to Omega and give you a piece of my mind in person, but Feron said this was business you needed to take care of. I don't really understand your attachment to Aria or to Omega but you do what you must and then you return to Ilium, understand?_

_Goddess give me patience,_

_Liara_

* * *

 

Shepard killed the cigarette under her heel, standing across the street of a bar called _the Loaded Carnifex_. According to Intel, this was the rumored hunting grounds for the big guys in Blue Suns. Moreover, it was a hub of information for both brokers and couriers—something that didn't exist so overtly five years ago. If cornering one of them led to finding out where Tarak or Sidonis lived—that would be the biggest lead Shepard has had in weeks.

Truthfully, she'd become more and more agitated by the fact that all the info she'd been getting either strongly suggested or proved that Aria was in absolute control of everything. Even the SB's logs and files hinted at no interference from Cerberus nor foul play from the Convocation. It was maddening because this couldn't be true and Aria wouldn't dare, wouldn't even _think_ to lie to her. Not about this.

Right?

Nothing could be confirmed or denied at the moment. That led to Shepard smoking three more cigarettes that she had sworn she wouldn't smoke but Omega was adamant about resurrecting old vices. She had her hands buried inside the front pockets of her hoodie before striding towards the bar, Count slithering behind her like a shadow.

She took three steps in before a krogan blocked her path. "No pets allowed."

Shepard blinked, looking down at Count who looked up at her. "You heard the man, kit. Go wreck their roof or something."

Count seemed happy enough at the suggestion and sauntered away. The krogan glared. "We don't allow pets on our roofs, either."

Shepard shrugged. "He's been doing whatever the hell he likes lately. So, good luck trying to tame him."

The krogan grunted in reply before walking out after Count. He signaled his companion, a turian with red colony markings to guard the door in his place. Shepard shook her head, that krogan was going to get his ass kicked.

As she entered the bar, she studied the interior more closely. It was oddly civilized inside. The walls were dark, textured to look like brick. There was the smell of smoke, pine, and the sharp chrome of bullets, but at least there wasn't any broken glass on the floor or anyone bleeding. There was a fire—a proper fire and it was warm inside. Off the corner, she noted the number of information brokers—sitting and waiting for someone to sit so they could exchange a number of credits beneath their tables.

She took one of the stools in front of the bartender, his colony markings were white and elaborate. She'd studied some of the colors and patterns (for purely professional Alliance business, of course. Not because of Garrus, never because of that fool). The bartender's colony markings were from the farther colonies—the outskirts where you'd meet up with more mercs than normal people.

Nonetheless, he greeted her with a purr in his voice—drying a cocktail shaker in hand with a rag. The wall of spirits behind him illuminated by a blue light, beckoned her to drink from their depths.

"Tourist?" He asked. His glass landed on the bar with a thud. "You seem rather—"

"Shiny and new?" She smiled back. "I was a former local. Just got back for a vacation." She shrugged. "Didn't think this place could change so much in such a short amount of time. Oh, and I'll have a beer. Anything you have that's single malt."

He chuckled, pouring a bottle he grabbed behind him into a tumbler before sliding it. She watched the foam with a little too much excitement. "Yeah? Do you like the changes?"

"I do. Some."

"And which changes do you not like?"

"That," She leaned forward, one eyebrow quirked upwards. "Is a really dangerous question, bartender."

He chuckled, sub-vocals hitching pleasantly in genuine amusement as he wiped his counter. "It's only dangerous if your answer is dangerous, young lady."

"Hah! Young lady? I'm not barely out of the crib, you know."

That laugh again. She remembered one of reasons why she had been attracted to turians at all was the sound of their laugh, their voice. Though, some didn't sound quite as nice as Garrus's and Mel's. This guy, she could admit, had an equally pleasant voice. "Would you prefer I show you my teeth, called you human, and growled with my claws out."

"And look like a total idiot?" She tutted. "What would your human regulars think?"

"Hm, hopefully only good things." He leaned forward, their eyes met. His silver eyes had flecks of green in them. "I do serve them their drinks after all. Won't take much to slip an extra special something in there when they aren't looking."

"Odd that this business is thriving then."

"Been only half a year since I've arrived in Omega. Got this job to make ends meet." He winked. "I'm pretty new and shiny myself."

She took a swig, unable to wait for the foam to settle, damning that she was here on business. But to finally drink something other than dubious water and canned coffee was like having a truck of potato chips parked outside her door. Plus, this older turian was flirting up something fierce.

Shepard had some experience when it came to the unwitting charms of knowledgeable adults. Feron had called it a complex, to which she had responded with a swift kick to his face (which Liara followed up with a biotic push against the couch).

Her first boyfriend, Jason Flores, had been her age. He smelled young too—they couldn't talk about anything really but where they failed in conversation they made up with frenzied touches and lots of hanky-panky. She remembered Garrus glaring all throughout the vid comm as she reported it and him smiling, feral, when she recalled through a lot of ugly crying, that she whooped Flores's ass when she caught him cheating.

She went on a few more dates with men her age range with more sheltered backgrounds than her. Needless to say, she didn't have the patience to sift through them to identify the assholes from the "normals." She needed someone who could look at Jack's tattoos and not pee in his pants, can balance talking about video games and its relationship to business and salarian science. Someone who wouldn't blink at her relationship with Count. Someone interesting. Most of them tended to be alien though she had met a few humans who passed muster, most of them ended up becoming good friends. However, she could count the exceptions on one hand.

First was the turian she dated once, Sadal, of the same age—not something she shared with Garrus because he'd probably have that knowing adult look. That relationship lasted longer, even if he had to return to the military. It had been casual, however. Then last and most successful was a drell—a rogue-ish man, Alden, with black scales and she knew, she just knew by his sheer athletic ability, attention to foreplay, and the magnetic pull of his being that he was an assassin. That was her longest relationship, spanning a year, one Feron gave her a high five for, and it ended on good terms when she joined Alenko's team and he went back to praise Amonkira. Again, not something Garrus knew about completely—only that she was involved with a few people here and there.

Still, she noted, the men she liked, human or not, tended to have the same scent. The oil from a well-maintained rifle clung to them like second skin, their fingernails had the faint scent and hue of metal—sometimes char from smokes, sometimes ashes from a fire. A glint in their eye that no matter what costume they needed to be in—it was always there, maybe beneath the surface, veiled in a perfume ordinary people would only call "different" and cease elaboration. A whiff of this spice, she knew, clung to her too—because no one grew up in Omega and survived it without coming out altered and refined to suit danger.

She finished her beer, sure as rain never fell on Omega that she was talking to an undercover agent of some kind who knew exactly what and who she was. Someone who was her type and probably had a lot of answers he was willing to provide if she asked the right questions.

She slid him her credit chit with a location and time typed in there and left the _Loaded Carnifex_ , maybe a little too elated than she should have been.

* * *

"Tell me you don't take all the guys you like into dark, abandoned buildings?"

Shepard smiled, motioned for him sit across her on a cargo box. They were in one of the empty buildings on the borders of Tuhi—closer to Aria's side and a blind spot for the Convocation's surveillance tech. Mostly, the place was dust, cobwebs, and smoke. Five years ago it was the Eclipse's recreational facility where she used to play cards with some of the salarian and human muscle in between dropping information.

"Only the special ones." She leaned back on her hands. "I also prefer to know their names before we talk. Though extranet addresses and hobbies would be nice too— you know, plus points."

The turian's armor was a dark grey and red, similar to her own Alliance regs had she been wearing them. He took the seat, still smiling. "Agents don't reveal their names or their extranet addresses. But I do really like to juggle. Not something my colleagues ought to know if I want to be taken seriously."

"Fine, Juggles."

"Spirits, that's an awful name."

"Hey, you chose it." She smiled. "Call me Millie."

"Millie? That doesn't sound very sexy."

She rolled her eyes. "My full name is Emilia." It was also the name Alden , the drell assassin she dated, used for the same reason but the turian didn't need to know that little tidbit.

"Well, that's a vast improvement." He leaned forward, eyes losing their playful luster. "So, Emilia, what is it that you want to know?"

"I think the more important questions are why you're willing to tell me and," She quirked an eyebrow at him. "If I can actually trust anything you reveal."

"You probably can't—though, rest assured, I feel no ill will towards you. You walked into the _Loaded Carnifex_ with a purpose. I like a woman who knows what she's looking for. As for why I want to tell you?" His teeth gleamed in the darkness. "As humans say, some people like to watch the world burn."

She nodded. She'd take his information with a grain of salt and then try to follow what leads he revealed from there. Anyway, he was interesting enough to want to cause a little mischief, at the cost of revealing his identity, if that wasn't fascinating or stupid or a mix both then she didn't know what was. "I noticed the Blue Suns are no longer around the _Loaded Carnifex_. Intel informed me it was a resting post for them but I've been watching for a week and not one of them has walked in."

He nodded. "It was until about a month ago. But the Convocation took one of their spots on the far side of Kima. Men posted at the Carn have been deployed to take it back. The big boys have been equally busy."

"Fucking tits." She said under her breath.

The turian laughed. "I take it you need one of them for something? Maybe one of the brokers or tracers could help you?"

She shook her head. "Overpriced and valueless. I could find out more by making the run to Kima and taking a peek. And I'm free."

"Are you now?" He hummed. "Free as in free for dinner tomorrow at sixteen-hundred-hours free? Or free as in I don't have to tell you much to get a number or something?"

She grinned. "Not for you, Juggles."

"Spirits, that name is—can't you call me turian. I think I prefer turian."

"Hmph. If you hate it so much, then a first name would be nice. Otherwise, Juggles it is."

He laughed. "Fine. It's Nihlus."

"See?" She stored the name. She'd have Liara check it out for her and do a background check. She was sure he was going to do the same with her own name. "Was that so hard?"

"Well, is there anything else you need to know, Emilia?" He slurred her name so smoothly that it came out like a purr.

"Yes," She cleared her throat and stared straight into his eyes. "Do you happen to know any big events happening in Aria's faction anytime soon—preferably black tie? Also," She cleared her throat again and smiled. "Would you be free to watch the world burn then?"


	8. Climbing Babel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can hear a very loud and collectively "Finally, she updated." I actually also promised to update last month to a certain reader, um, whoops. (I did say my word isn't the most reliable though hahaha... yeah, sorry, man)
> 
> Still lost with this, sadly, but if we can all be patient I know I can break through this. If you can spare some encouragement, I am all ears to feedback. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

"So, boss, if Shepard were older do you think you'd ever—"

Mei twiddled her fingers before twirling a lock of her fringe around her finger. At that moment both Monty and Butler looked up from cleaning their rifles on the table, and even Ripper peeked up from his copy of a Blasto comic to stare at Garrus.

The turian in question looked at them from his seat on the sofa, a little confused. He had just been staring at his inbox, a week after Shepard had informed him that she wouldn't be communicating with him for a while— maybe even a year since her mission could take that long. Of course, Garrus didn't take it as seriously. The last time Shepard said she wouldn't send him any messages ever again was after they had a disagreement about how to handle bullies at school (she wanted to get on their grill and out in the open, Garrus preferred a more subtle murder). Next day, she sent him a message about how she finally tried the best ice cream place in Ilium and how it lived up to its name.

One week was a long time without hearing from Shepard. And as much as he wanted to run his talons against the wall, it wouldn't do to lessen his dignity just because his patience was running thin.

"Well, boss?" Mei took a step towards him. Hovering above him with this look on her face— he assumed they made bets on this. Whatever it was she was talking about.

"Mei, I'm sorry. I don't really understand."

Ripper put down his comic book and it skidded to the edge of the glass coffee table between them. "She's asking if you'd bang Shepard if she wasn't a teenager."

"Ripper!" Mei stomped her feet.

"What?" He shrugged.

"I was asking the boss if he would pursue a relationship with her. Not— bang her." She crossed her arms. "You're such an animal. What will your wife think?"

Ripper chuckled. "Was only trying to quicken the pace, darling. No need to bring the wife into this."

"Bang her?" Garrus blinked. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

Monty cleared his throat, turning from his seat with the rag still in his hand. "Well, boss, us humans noticed that you may have an unusual— attachment— to the girl. Now," He put his hand up before Garrus could speak. "We all know you feel like an overprotective older brother or something. But you told us that Shepard told you she like-liked you so aren't you giving her all these mixed signals?"

If Garrus had eyebrows, he might have raised them at all their identical expressions. Sighed, he chuckled as he shook his head. "I've been nothing but clear with Shepard about this. I don't think there are any 'mixed signals' to go around."

"Fuck, it's annoying when aliens do our air quotes." Ripper muttered as he leaned back against the couch.

Garrus sent him a look before continuing. "And I don't know if I'd ever pursue a relationship with her—like that. She isn't older. I don't want to live a life that isn't here and now."

That got them all silent. Mei gave him the biggest smile and a nod as she plunked herself down on the couch beside Ripper and lifted the comic up to read herself. Ripper made an agreeable sound from his throat before excusing himself to get a glass of water. As Monty reached back for one of his rifle parts, it was only Butler who had this face-splitting grin as he said:

"You're totally going to regret saying that in ten years."

* * *

Garrus sat down, looking vaguely at his reflection on the window—at the way the scar burned half his colony markings off, how the damage nearly crusted over one eye, rusted the plates and melted into rougher flesh, black. Sometimes looking at his scars made his eyes narrow and focus, other times it felt like a salve over a wound.

Right now, it was a distraction.

"You know," Melanis coughed. "We wanted you to watch over the kid to give you some time to breath. Now, you're more agitated than anything."

He turned sharply to face her in his seat. She looked at him with interested gold eyes, subharmonics hinted at worry mixed with compassion. "One of the units met trouble near the borders. I arrived to give them some support and assigned a few stragglers as lookouts in place." He gritted his teeth. "When I went back to my position, the girl was gone because none of them saw her leave. Hasn't been back for a week. Spirits, what kind of incompetent—"

Mel put a hand up to stop him. "Enough, boss. You know that Shepard has unusual talents. That's why Kandros wanted you there." She frowned. "Have you told her you lost Shepard?"

"She isn't as unhappy about it as I am."

"Maybe," Melanis coughed. "Because Shepard isn't likely to be a spy?"

Garrus chair scraped against the floor as he stood, the chair toppling over. "The ones we least expect to betray us."

"Boss," She followed after him. They made their way down to the warehouses. Grunts saluted them as they passed. Melanis had the decency to respond while she tried to match his stride. Garrus hardly bothered anymore. "I'm not comfortable suspecting Shepard of things she isn't likely to be guilty of. Can't we let her go?"

He didn't care to reply to her either. He gave her one look, one look, and she looked away—glaring at anything but him. Continuing his path, with Mel still following behind him, he took one of the keycards to a skycar and switched off the alarm with his omni-tool.

"Vakarian, just where do you think you're going with my car?" Titania strode over, hands folded in front of her chest. "Your boyfriend privileges wore out years ago."

Garrus waved the comment off and started the car. Melanis shook her head and Titania approached her space car, leaning over the door with her teeth bared. As usual, Titania cut an exceptional figure. Garrus allowed himself one look at her before switching the controls to drive.

"You better pay me back for this. Five days and I'm supposed to go undercover."

Garrus flicked the headlights on. "For?"

"Aria is holding a huge event. Big dogs are attending."

"Sidonis?"

She shook her head, no. "But it's a way for us to find out where he is. Well?"

Garrus looked in front of him. He'd signaled the people to open the doors so he could fly out of here in peace. He'd go back to the roof and wait a little longer for Shepard or the Kendra. Then, he'd go back to his own apartment and get back to the work that was truly worth his time.

"Mel, tell Kandros to put some people around Shepard's apartment in about three hours, GS." He flipped the switch to start the engines and had it hovering over the floor. Titania took a few steps away from the door. "Titania, I'll pick you up in five days."

"Wear something nice, Vakarian."

He could still hear her hum over the engine as he sped off.

* * *

_Garrus,_

_Mom has been doing all right. And she better be, the salarian aid that came a couple of years back have been doing their job._

_Are you doing all right?_

_Solana_

Stuffy.

That's what Garrus called having to wear a formal tunic and going to a formal event held by his enemies. He had pulled out one his former favorites, a black tunic trimmed with gold that he paired with leather gloves. He put cosmetics over his scars and put his visor down. Without it, he felt naked and revealed for everyone to see.

His omni-tool pinged and he checked his inbox right before they could enter the elevator. It was a message from Solana, he sighed, moving it into another folder to be read later. He asked Mordin's help in getting some medical attention for his mom nearly two years ago—salarian aid, which was top notch. That was before all of this though, when he still had time to think about it.

"Come on," Titania pulled him by the arm. She had on a dress of silver and blue, colors he had admired on her when they were still dating. Arm in arm, they walked into the elevator and sped to the top floor.

The event was taking place in the tallest building in Omega, Babel. The event itself was no less gaudy than he thought it might be. Draperies of rich, velvet colors were hanging on the walls and ceilings, scantily clad asari and humans alike danced in giant birdcages overhead grinding in time to music with a heavy bass. Before they could walk in further, a second set of batarian bouncers stopped them and did a weapon and narcotics scan.

The elcor was the one that handed them a mask each. Garrus's was white and smoothed like the surface of a marble statue. Titania's was decorated in red gems, shaped like a butterfly. "What the hell is this supposed to be?"

The elcor turned to him. "Patient reply. A masquerade, sir. Chirpy resignation. Orders from Aria."

Garrus sighed and slipped it on. It barely covered much, but enough that he wasn't distinct from other turians. Even if his cosmetics usually did the job to hide the scars, who knew if they had Intel on that as well. Right now, they were here as nothing more than representatives from one of the small merc groups in Omega, Shadow. He laughed at the name and even Kandros cracked a smile but Shadow had been around since the Talons took power as a dummy merc band they could use for assignments like these. They had the estimated number of people and the paperwork to prove that they existed, at least. Now with the masks on it would be easier to find some leads.

Titania sighed before letting go of his arm. "Time to get to work. Try not to kill anyone while I'm gone."

The tone of his chuckle was a little too low for comfort. "I don't make any promises."

An hour later and Garrus found himself wanting to kill just about everyone he met. He was basically in the cesspool of Omega herself, every person he shook hands with, made some crude joke with, laughed with, was involved in crimes worse than cold-blooded murder. Drug cartels, slave rings, sex dens—Spirits, if Garrus had a bomb he would have left it somewhere in here to detonate.

If he wasn't so desperate to know where Sidonis was hiding then maybe he would have put that plan into action.

He was taking a sip from his drink by the bar, turning in the stool to spot the balcony. Aria was overlooking everyone, a drink in hand. Beside her, Tarak was talking—gloating, rather— by the way he was looking up with his chin tilted in the air with a wide mouthed laugh. He was talking to someone Garrus couldn't see because of his angle but whatever it was they were laughing about Aria didn't seem to be sharing the same joy.

He turned away as her eyes swiveled towards his direction. Spirits, people who lived in Omega for too long had a weird sixth sense.

"This one is one of my favorites. I call her Cleo."

Through his peripheral vision, Garrus spotted the turian who spoke. He was talking to someone from Blue Suns too—a human lieutenant by the name of Robin Kahn, he had been known to be rather adventurous in Afterlife. Even now, he eyed the human woman in front of him like she was _Glixelle_ meat. She wasn't much taller than Shepard might have been, just as slim, shapely especially where the blue dress hugged her waist. Her eyes were—

Shit. Spirits and _shit_.

Kahn reached out to touch her, but the other turian slapped his hand away. "Now, Kahn. I don't like my goods being tampered with until I get my payment." He moved his eyes around before muttering. "I also don't like them being paraded around for all to enjoy."

Kahn rushed to type something down on his omni-tool. "I just made the full down payment to your account."

"Excellent." He held Cleo by the waist. "I'm assuming you got a room ready?"

Garrus was given two choices then. One, stay and be the back-up Titania wanted him to be. Get some info the nice and easy way without having to punch someone's nose in. Or, two, follow Shepard, who was most assuredly undercover as a slave, with a turian that was trimmed with importance if his stance was anything to go by. How she got herself involved in a slave ring in the week he lost sight of her, he wasn't sure, but he was willing to kill to find out.

Professionalism was winning over the latter choice the farther away they walked, up until the taller turian tightened his hold on Shepard's waist, bringing her closer to his own body before putting his mandible against the shell of her delicate ear—

Garrus slammed the empty glass down. His eyes sharp and his stride long—swaggering, as Shepard often called it through the vidcomm— towards them as easily as he could. His talons threatened to break through the leather of his gloves as he unclenched his hands. Someone was definitely going to have to die if they didn't start explaining this to him.


	9. Interlude I: Changing of the Guard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ta-daa, chapter! Was excited to post this because the story is moving (slowly, but it's progress).
> 
> Note: Story-wise, this chapter happens before Loaded Carnifex. Plot-wise, I chose to put it here because I thought it be more effective here rather than before that chapter. Hopefully, no one will be confused.
> 
> Enjoy!

The boss had been sick for over a year.

Others called it different names: enthusiastic, vengeful, uncompromising. But Melanis remembered back when she was twelve years old, and the human couple had taken her in along with seven other orphaned children in Omega. During the firestorms that would sometimes hit Kenzo, all of them would huddle up in the shelter with Mama Rica in the middle and she would say: "Don't be consumed by the sickness of hate, children."

Garrus Vakarian. He was consumed, swallowed whole—possessed, by a spirit of hatred. He called it by different names: vengeance, justice, debt. But it was none of those and no one—not herself, Titania, Sensat, or Grundan had spoken up. No one could. Not that the boss would actually listen.

There was some hope when Shepard returned. A little bit of the old boss was in those blue eyes, past the manifestation of scars on his face. But after their talk in one of the conference rooms—Shepard walked out, gave them all hugs, the spirit in her that was once always present now diminished.

"What happened?" Mel asked as Shepard pulled away from her hold.

"Garrus—has changed a lot, hasn't he?" She turned back. She'd have to pass a few hallways and a set of stairs to get here. Then, she looked back up to give Melanis a smile.

Melanis tried to stamp down the grief that was rising to her throat. She wasn't sure how well Shepard could hear the nuances of sub-vocals. "Since the Betrayal."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything." Shepard looked down at her hands. "I wish you all the best. It was—so great to see you all." She gave Butler's shoulder a final squeeze before walking away, back out the door she entered and into Omega.

The boss was more distraught than ever. The sickness made him more frenzied, nervous—like he was going to be jumped. His decree on the matter was as final as ever: anyone caught fraternizing with Shepard would be considered a co-conspirator, a traitor. Everyone knew from then that there was no turning back, even if there was no evidence other than her entrance to Forlorn that said she was working for Aria's faction.

Mel did what she could from her side. Standing before Nyreen Kandros, she pleaded her case: the boss needed something to do besides what he was doing.

"You realize he's half of this order. I can't exactly assign him to a place when he has as much authority as me."

"Not with the way things are going, ma'am. The recruits are afraid of him. The vets—tolerate him. When it comes to battle they'll follow, no question. The boss has sound tactics—"

"More than sound. Inspired—"

"But I know you're the only other person who could appeal to his reason." The other person was Lantar Sidonis and he was the last person Mel (or the boss) would ever speak to. "Please. It won't mean anything if they all would rather follow someone who's less likely to snap at them and more likely to sacrifice them if his end goal was near."

Kandros looked unfazed by this admission, leaning back against her chair. "You think so too, don't you?"

Mel bowed her head. "The lieutenants of Archangel and I discuss it all the time. If he had to pick between saving his team and chasing after Sidonis—the old boss would have hesitated, would have found some way to do both. But now he'd—" A strangled cry escaped her. "Please, help him. Give him something else to focus on. Give him something else to believe."

A long silence swallowed them before Kandros brought out her omni-tool and typed out a summons for the boss. Mel left the office, she just barely missed him along the hallway but turned the corner fast enough for him to not notice her.

* * *

It worked for as long as it could. The boss's hasty walk became a calmer strut. He even almost greeted the grunts who saluted him (and even dismissed them, or else Mel would find a handful just standing there because he didn't order them to be at ease). The sickness was a long way from being cured but now, at least, the pain was being eased. It was a point that was both wonderful and devastating to her all at once: Shepard still had that calming effect on the boss and that effect could never come from Melanis herself.

"You're going to what?" Sensat looked at her with large, dark eyes. It was hard to faze someone as calm as a 345 year old asari with her maiden years fast ending, but Sensat stood at full alert, blinking rapidly as she watched Mel pace back and forth in her quarters in the Convocation HQ.

"I'm going to speak to the kid. Try to convince her to talk to the boss one more time."

"What—you know what the boss said, right?" Sensat stood from her seat on the bed. "If any of us were seen—"

"I won't get caught." Melanis put her hands on Sensat's shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "When I signal you, give me the distraction I need to get into the kid's apartment without the boss noticing. Just enough time for me to slip in."

"And slipping out?"

Mel smiled. "Hey, I'm sure if the kid doesn't find a way then I will."

At the right moment, the squad asked for back up on the borders of Tuhi. The boss then quickly radioed in to dispatch a team to surround Millie's perimeter and he would get to the site on foot to cover the situation. The moment the changing of the guard occurred was when Mel slipped into apartment, frying the vids until she was in front of the door, fidgeting.

When Millie let her in, Mel was immediately engulfed in a tight hug with the wind knocked out of her. Mel was looking forward to greeting an undaunted stare, a bright smile.

Instead, someone tired and worn looked up at her, smiling but her blue silver eyes weren't the same. She leaned her arms on the counter, sighing. She motioned for her to take a seat and Melanis took it gratefully to catch her breath. "Mel, I think word around the street is that I'm considered an undesirable especially in Gozu and other Convocation Districts?"

Mel felt embarrassed for her whole team. "It's—" She scratched the back of her neck. "God—Spirits, or whatever, Millie—I know it's a mistake. The boss is just being an asshole."

Millie walked to the other side of the room, peeking out of the curtains of her window. "One of your guys is tailing me though."

Mel's heart raced. "You knew?"

Millie nodded, still looking out the window. "Wouldn't it be risky—ah, he's not there anymore."

"Yeah I—made a small diversion to slip in here. A team will be dispatched soon though to replace him." Mel clenched and unclenched her hands. "If you knew about the spy why didn't you try to get rid of him?"

"He's always just out of my reach. But Count lets me know he's around. Haven't been close enough to ID him but Count doesn't see him as hostile so I've let your spy stay. Finally found someone who could catch up to me? Never thought a person in the Convocation would exist after all the squads you guys sent my way." Millie's eyes misted over. "Even Garrus had some trouble but at least I never had to stop to wait for him."

Mel stopped herself from fidgeting. "Your mental connection to your kendra? It's pretty strong."

The young human drew away from the curtain and bounced on the bed. "It is. We're joined emphatically. Though lately he's been wandering off. Must feel a synergy with Omega the way I do, probably needs to explore the place and the people." She motioned at the couch across the bed and Mel took it. "What did you want to talk about that you'd risk your position and your life for?"

Mel's hands tightened into fists on her lap. "Mil, do you think you can talk to the boss one last time?"

Millie blinked a few times. "Well, I dunno. Maybe if that lug stopped being such a paranoid a-hole we can discuss what's really happening here."

Melanis nodded, understanding. So, it wasn't that Mils was against talking—the boss was just being a headache. It sounded just like the kid. "And you don't miss the boss at all? Maybe, it's better if you bend a little. You know how the boss can be. You can talk to him now!"

"I—"

Mils's omni-tool pinged just then. She flashed Mel an apologetic look before the turian just waved her dismissal.

Whatever Mils read on that screen had her scratching the back of her head. Standing, she started pacing with her arms crossed over her chest. Crazily close to how a caged animal might have done it.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Mel cleared her throat. "Is there a problem?"

"I can talk to him. I do really, really want to talk to him." She didn't have her eyes fixed somewhere in particular. For the first time, Mel realized that Shepard was actually unfocused, edgy. "But there's a lead I need to follow. Right now." She looked out the window again. "And your team doesn't have feet fast enough to fill the shoes left behind by your guy."

Melanis couldn't believe what she was hearing. Em, Millie Shepard—heart on her sleeve, little spitfire—this was the kid who saved Garrus's life from the Blood Pack just five years prior. Back then, they were total strangers. Now, just when Mel just explained to her that she might be the only thing standing between his sanity and implosion, she was choosing to follow a lead? For whom? Why?

"You don't need to be happy about it." Millie broke through her thoughts and she looked up from the floor to the smile that was looking back at her. "You can think all the nasty and awful things you like—about where I'm going and for whom or why."

A full rush of shame caught in Melanis's throat, warbling her subvocals. "Millie, I—"

The younger woman raised her hand, signaling her to stop. "It's all right, Mel. You don't put your trust on someone who can't prove they're worthy of the trust. That's logical, real." Her smile didn't fade, it was star-bright and unwavering. "I've also been told that I am not the most logical person."

"You really think Aria is innocent." Mel whispered. "That she didn't plan all that happened? That she didn't kill—"

"I know what she did." Millie answered. "I watched the vids. I'm not denying that she had the blood of those people—our friends— in her hands. But," Millie Shepard looked down at her own hands, studying them like she was seeing them for the first time. "Aria herself is under constant surveillance, did you know that?"

"That can be easily doctored."

"But it isn't."

"And what proof do you have?"

This older Millie made a new face the young Millie didn't have. Mel would describe it as thoughtful, her brows crinkling together and a straight crease forming between them. "She's almost a thousand years old. People that old—they don't just decide to change. You live that long and you get used to sameness." She started her pace again. "So, why move her base of operations outside of Afterlife? Why is it suddenly No Man's land? How did she suddenly have no control over it?"

"But she does—"

"Extranet says she does. Intel says she does. But who Aria is, what she's about—her brand. It isn't her. This whole thing stinks of conspiracy. Layers and layers of deceit that we don't know about. Aria is to blame for a lot of things, but not this." She motioned at the space between and around them. "Everything seems too neatly tied up to be Aria's scheme. She's the queen, not the player."

Mel shook her head. "I know you want to believe that—"

"I do—"

"But it isn't the truth—"

"What's the first rule of Omega?" Millie looked her in the eye just then. The same color as the boss's and Melanis could have waxed poetic about them, even now, at how stark and honest they were, about how blue and clear and so unlike all the things around them. Melanis couldn't claim to have eyes so clear, even if both of them grew up in this back end of the Traverse.

Melanis snorted. "All the tourists think it's 'Don't fuck with Aria.' Can't say it isn't catchy."

Shepard smirked back. "Right. Only tourists think that's the first rule, the only rule. It's true and it isn't."

"And it's a damn shame."

"And so, what is the first rule?"

Mel returned the smile. Millie was right about the Convocation not having the feet. It had been ten minutes and even as Shepard peeked out of the window to check again, even if Melanis couldn't see it herself, she knew there would be no one there.

"It never rains in Omega." Mel answered and the other woman nodded. That was the phrase in these parts. It was an oddly poetic way of saying "Go somewhere else if you want a fucking miracle because you ain't gonna get it here, halfwit." The both of them knew the reality of that phrase more than anyone else in the Archangel team combined.

"Garrus let his guard down." Millie whispered. "Omega doesn't forgive people who don't listen to the rules. Omega doesn't rain for you. You have to make the rain." She took a deep breath. "If Garrus doesn't get that then he'll live in the damned drought until it kills him."

Melanis nodded slowly and then stood from her chair. Shepard and her shared a brief hug before she had to leave. She turned her comm back on to find that the ETA of the guard was still ten minutes and she had to shake her head at her own group's lack of competence in the speed department. How did everything get so bad? How did she let it?

Not even an hour later and the boss's voice was thundering through the entire base. Millie was no longer in the apartment with no trace of where she was and where she could be. Melanis sat silently, not answering the curious and imploring gazes Sensat sent her way. She had told her an abridged version of what she and Millie had discussed: the girl had been strict, harsh even—only someone from Omega would understand that it was also the best way to look at it. There was no way Sensat wouldn't misinterpret.

Make your fucking rain.

Melanis looked out the window, watched one of their sky shuttles speed by. The boss's voice thundered orders and the smog overhead was cloud-red and thick.

Melanis would have preferred some sunlight over this.


End file.
